


Tell no-one

by RattlerOfTheStars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, First Kiss, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Viktor Krum (mentioned) - Freeform, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RattlerOfTheStars/pseuds/RattlerOfTheStars
Summary: They would both blame the night on the other's drink but it was difficult to tell who moved first.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 28





	Tell no-one

The hot hall only felt stuffier with the haze of alcohol, the buzz of smuggled Firewhisky courtesy of the Weasley twins dulled his usually sharp senses. Time seemed to pass oddly slowly as if it was made of treacle. It was embarrassing enough to be drinking alcohol brought by dirt-poor blood traitors as it was. He supposed alcohol was alcohol. No, to top that, he had nothing close to his usual polished decorum and his father would have his neck if he made a fool of himself.

He was _so_ lucky he wasn’t a giggly drunk.

Oh, and to top _that_ , he seemed unable to drag his eyes off the Granger girl. She may have been a mudblood, but there was no denying that that dress only served to accentuate the curves he hadn’t known she had, usually obscured under demure clothing and school robes. And her hair really benefitted from a touch of Sleakeasy’s. Not that it made any difference. He was probably paying too much attention anyway.

He was way out of her league, he reminded himself. Not that that made a difference either since Granger was very much _not_ part of the hoard of girls vying for his affections. He couldn’t help the pang that he felt from that, but he opted to dismiss it as fast as it came.

All the same, he couldn’t help the heat of jealousy that rose to match the pleasant warmth of alcohol every time the Bulgarian kissed her on the cheek or whispered something in her ear that made her giggle. Or blush. Or both.

He couldn’t help the way his feet carried him, almost of their own volition, towards the drinks table where she stood. _Almost_. She shot him a wary glance but opted to stay quiet in favour of waiting for her date, not wishing to ruin her night with a petty argument. He didn’t say anything either, managing to shoot her a smirk and lean against the drinks table, even in his semi-drunken state.

Victor still did not come, so she stayed.

They were silent.

The minutes ticked by, Draco smugly sipping a glass of dubious-looking punch and Hermione becoming more and more agitated by the minute.

“What?”, she eventually erupted, unable to stay silent any longer and wanting to diffuse an argument before it happened, but more likely to exacerbate the situation in her irritated state.

“Nothing”, he said with an almost insolent tone, taking another sip of his drink and looking at her over the top of his glass, daring her to go on.

This set her off. Someone must have aggravated her already because even fiery Hermione Granger didn’t lose her temper this quickly. Now the pent-up frustration appeared to be directed at him.

“It is _not_ nothing! Do you think I haven’t noticed you looking at me all night, probably scheming away, trying to find some way to ruin this evening because nobody could leave me alone for just one day! Do you think I’m stupid? Is this some sort of a game to you? Because it feels like a prank the whole world is in on to screw up what should have been a Perfectly. Lovely. Night!”

Here she pushed him backwards with each word until they were in the doorway that led outside, the cool air hitting their skin. Her face was flushed and her chest heaving from the tirade that appeared to be over for now, but all Draco could think about was that she looked kinda beautiful.

Okay, very beautiful.

Before she could complain or he could register what he was doing, he had grabbed her by the waist and pulled her outside, pushing her against a tree. Breathing hard, he realised he had probably shortened his life expectancy by a substantial amount.

Now was probably the time to say something cocky like, _now this isn’t really about me is it Granger?_ But his vocal cords appeared to stop functioning and his breath caught in his throat at the realisation of the compromising position they had found themselves in. One hand rested on her waist and the other had come up to cradle the side of her face, while her hands were clutching his lapels.

He wasn’t sure who pulled first but before either of them could say a word, they were crashing into each other, their lips crushing together hard. He could taste the alcohol on her soft lips, but he knew she would taste it on his own as well. Their lips moved together but their hands were still, only giving leverage to push harder into one another. Only when her fingers moved down to brush the skin underneath the bottom of his shirt did he pull away, gasping for breath.

“We should stop.”, he said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Do you want to?”, she asked in a way he hadn’t deemed her capable of, making his heart beat so hard it was a wonder she couldn’t hear it. She could _definitely_ feel it.

Her words brought his lips crashing back down on hers, his tongue running along the seam of her lips, which opened under him. His hands now roamed up and down her sides as their tongues danced an exotic tango as they nipped and licked and _tasted_. He could identify the bitter tang of alcohol but underneath could taste the sweetness of sugar and smell the soft scent of lavender and vanilla. Her scent. That knowledge made him want to move even closer. To breathe deeply and commit the event to memory. At the back of his mind, he knew that this would not happen again, and he knew she knew it too.

He pulled away, making her hum softly and try to pull him back.

“Tell no-one”, he panted between hard kisses, unable to grind out the words he really wanted to say, the words she too was battling with.

_I love you._

“Of course.”

The next morning, they would blame the occasion on drink and frustration and never speak of it again, but for now, they lived and breathed each other for the final few hours before the end of the ball.

They stayed like that, together, even as Viktor Krum’s calls faded into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to point out any mistakes and comments and kudos are welcome, I'd love to hear what you think! Will be cross-posted on Fanfiction.net when I am bothered because uploading is such a nightmare on that website honestly. I was wondering if I should make this a multi-chapter fic but I thought it seemed more poetic as a one-shot.
> 
> ~ RattlerOfTheStars


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